


Two Rules To Success.

by Popples123



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I wrote this instead of studying, M/M, Smut, i was too sober for this, pete loves sucking dick, petekey, theres like three bj scenes im going to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popples123/pseuds/Popples123
Summary: In which Mikey accidentally breaks Pete's nose in a moshpit and chaos ensues.Mikey also learns a thing or two about the magic of blowjobs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> PSA- If the smut seems forced, that's because it is. Ever since a relative died a few months ago I physically can't write smut because I believe strongly in the afterlife and I feel like the relative is watching me so,, yeah. yikes  
> Anyways,, enjoy!!

_Based on this prompt:"Imagine person A of your OTP breaking person B's nose in a moshpit"_

***

Up until now, Mikey has persistently avoided attending any of the concerts that his brother Gerard and Gerard's boyfriend Frank go to because every time they arrive home at ass-o'clock in the morning, pissed drunk with badly recorded videos of the entire event, Mikey can't help but wonder how people survive through those kind of gigs. He doesn't see what's so appealing about being crammed into a tiny venue packed with hundreds of people jumping up and down and most likely injuring each other in the process when they could easily just listen to the music in the safety of their own bedrooms. The latter is far more up Mikey's street.

However, one of Gerard's all time favourite bands (Mikey can't remember the name for the life of him) are playing tonight at the local venue and although Mikey is admittedly scared of going, it only takes Gerard and Frank thirty minutes to convince him to tag along, promising to pay for his ticket in return.

Throughout the day Mikey gradually grows more excited but as the time to leave approaches, he occasionally finds himself worrying about every little thing that could go wrong, from losing Gerard and Frank to getting seriously hurt in the crowd.

Despite his fears, Mikey keeps his cool right up until Frank parks his car three blocks away from the venue, and then Mikey is panicking so much that it takes almost ten minutes for his brother to coax him out of the car. Frank holds Mikey's hand to calm him down and keep him grounded once he exits the vehicle, and he even manages to laugh when Gerard swats Frank's arm and says "Wrong Way, asshole." Laughter is good. It means Mikey is relaxing.

The queue stretches on all the way behind the building and down the street, and the three men find themselves standing at the very back, shivering in the bitter night time air.

"Remind me why I bothered coming here?" Mikey hisses through his chattering teeth.

"Because it'll be worth it once the band comes onstage," Frank says. "This is your first concert! At least act like you're happy to be here!" That'll be hard, Mikey thinks, because right now Frank sounds way more excited than what Mikey feels.

"I'll be happy when I don't feel like I'm standing in the middle of the North Pole freezing my ass off," Mikey bites back and the couple laugh at the remark. Someone in front of them laughs at it too, and it makes Mikey more uncomfortable that what it should.

After what feels like an eternity, the three of them finally make it to the entrance and they get inside with no hassle. Gerard and Frank are in a hurry to get as close to the front as they possibly can (Frank is already switching on his camera) but Mikey isn't too bothered about how near the stage he is. Unfortunately, his lack of enthusiasm causes him to become separated from Gerard and Frank, because the couple somehow manage to get two rows away from the barricade but Mikey remains in the middle of the rapidly expanding crowd, all because he diverted his attention from his friend and his brother for three fucking seconds.

 _Great_.

Nobody lets him past but he does manage to squeeze through a small cluster of teenagers before he's roughly shoved back by a drunken twenty-something year old who looks like he could snap a tree in half with zero effort. Mikey's heart skips a beat and although his gut instinct tells him that the man might let him through if he politely explains the situation, he isn't willing to take any chances and he finds himself walking in the opposite direction. In the end, he's even further back than what he was to begin with.

A support act that Mikey has never heard of appears onstage moments later and much to his dismay, he discovers that he's lost sight of Gerard and Frank altogether. Suddenly, the small amount of excitement he felt for tonight vanishes and is replaced with pure fear. He just wants to go home.

Three songs in, Mikey isn't feeling any calmer and when the singer shouts something about "opening a circle pit", Mikey's heart fills with dread because people around him begin moving back and he _still_ can't see Gerard and Frank.

He doesn't know what to do and people he's never met are running in a circle and shoving each other around, and that's when Mikey decides he needs to get the fuck out of here _right now_.

Except that each time he tries to escape the circle pit, he's either being pushed back or hit or blocked or he's simply too scared to take another step.

His next solution is a lot less sensible than escaping. He decides he should just roll with this and hope it ends soon. He copies what the other people are doing and after he gets over the paranoia of dying, he actually starts to enjoy himself.

The song ends just as Mikey gets the hang of everything and now would be the perfect opportunity to leave the pit and venture back into the actual crowd, but instead he chooses to remain where he is. Much to his surprise, he's having fun and he shows no hesitation to continue jumping around when the next song plays after the singer announces that the main band will be on in twenty minutes.

For some reason, that announcement gets Mikey far too excited and soon, he gets carried away. Before he even realises what's going on, he loses his balance, someone slams into the back of him, and he falls forward, punching a random dude right in the nose and knocking him to the ground.

Time practically stops for Mikey as he watches the small black-haired man stand back up, only to keel over in pain right away. The blood seeping through his hands that are covering is nose is more than enough to let Mikey know that this isn't something both parties can brush off and forget about with the simple wave of a hand and an apology.

Apart from a couple of people asking the man if he's alright and someone offering him water, nobody makes any beneficial efforts to assist him, and Mikey feels that it's only right that he takes responsibility for this. As soon as the supporting act exit the stage, only a minute or so after the incident occurred, Mikey approaches the stranger and taps him gently on the shoulder.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he says sheepishly and subtly crosses his fingers behind his back in the hopes that this guy won't beat the shit out of him.

"You should be."

Although the stranger appears snappy Mikey doesn't take offence because he'd react the same way. The man lowers his hands, revealing a badly bruised nose with blood dripping out of it and Mikey is able to tell right away that it's broken.

Too scared to speak in case he fucks up his words and worsens the situation, Mikey places his hand on the guy's back and guides him up to the back of the venue and through the doors, relieved that the man doesn't resist. Mikey takes a left turn and then they're standing outside the bathrooms together.

"You can go now." The man sounds bitter and he doesn't spare Mikey a single glance. He opens the bathroom door and slams it shut before Mikey has even blinked.

The logical thing to do would be to go back into the venue and pretend like none of this happened but Mikey is far too concerned to think sensibly about this, so after a great deal of hesitation he takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

Leaning awkwardly over the sink, the stranger is splashing water on his face and continuously makes small pained noises whenever his fingers come into contact with his nose and the bruised skin around it. Mikey feels terrible.

"There's a payphone two blocks over. Want me to call someone for you?" He asks nervously.

"Do you not understand that I don't want you here or are you just a fucking idiot who doesn't know how to let people take care of themselves?" The stranger's words sting a little but Mikey doesn't dwell too much. "You've done enough. Get the hell out of here."

"I'm only trying to help," Mikey snaps back and goes to storm back outside but before he can close the door behind him, the man speaks in a softer voice.

"Wait."

Mikey turns around with an attitude similar to that of a pissed off teenager getting a lecture from their mom. The man is standing next to the sink, his face wet and hair sticking up at all angles. Now is probably the wrong time for Mikey to think about how unfairly attractive this stranger is but hey, the dude's hot.

"There is someone you can call."

Still a bit annoyed at all the shit the guy said to him two minutes ago, Mikey opens his mouth to tell the man that he can walk to the phone box and make the call himself but the stranger quickly continues talking.

"Wait, wait, my vision - it's blurry, I don't, I can't go alone. I think I'd faint."

Exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding, Mikey takes a reluctant step forward and doesn't try to be subtle when his eyes travel up and down the man's body before settling on his injured nose, which seems to be growing more and more bruised every time he looks at it.

"Please?" His voice is barely a whisper and Mikey caves in, but at that moment vibrations and faint music can be hear through the tiled walls. "Wait, you don't have to. The band is on; you don't need to miss them. I'm sure I can walk on my own... I think."

Mikey takes another step forward. "I know," he says, "but I won't be able to live with myself if I don't come with you. Let's go."

The man follows him out the bathroom and doesn't complain when Mikey wraps an arm around his waist to keep him steady, because he's swaying a little and it's not worth taking the risk of him falling and hurting himself even more.

The band's music is even louder now but if Mikey's being honest, he couldn't care less if he misses the set because he doesn't know who the band are and Frank will tape it anyways, so he can always watch it in the future.

Outside, the air is a lot colder than what it was earlier and Mikey catches himself shivering erratically at the sudden decrease in temperature. The stranger doesn't seem bothered but Mikey thinks that's due to how dazed he probably is.

"Hey," Mikey keeps his voice low and picks up the pace he's walking at. The stranger does the same without complaining. "What's your name?"

"Pete," Pete says breathlessly. "Fuck, can we slow down?"

"We have another block to go. C'mon, you can do it." Mikey gently tugs on Pete's arm. "The quicker we get there, the quicker you can sit down."

Pete lets out a miserable whine but he carries on walking. By the time they arrive at their destination, he looks like he's ready for passing out and Mikey worries that he may have obtained a head injury from the way he fell to the ground.

"Who do you want me to call?" Pete doesn't respond and when Mikey looks at him, he notices how unfocused Pete's eyes are. He gnaws nervously on his lip, pondering on what he should do, before getting an idea.

After setting Pete down on the curb and watching him sprawl out on his back on the middle of the sidewalk, Mikey pushes some spare change from his pocket into the slot machine and dials for a taxi. When the operator on the other line asks where the destination is, Mikey says "The nearest hospital," and he hears Pete laugh loudly from where he's lying.

Once he's given his current location, Mikey disconnects the call and looks down at Pete. "What's so funny?"

"This your first time at a concert?" He pushes himself into a sitting position and beckons for Mikey to sit with him. Mikey complies and makes sure to keep a reasonable gap between his body and Pete's.

"How did you know this was my first concert?"

"Nobody who's been to these shows before would take someone with a broken nose to the hospital... unless they're a kid, or just weak." Pete is laughing but Mikey doesn't know what's so funny. "Normally I just ice it. You're too paranoid, kid."

"You've broken your nose before?"

"Mhm." Pete smiles like it's something to be proud of. "Third time this year."

"It's _March_." Mikey does a terrible job at masking his disbelief. "How many concerts do you go to?"

"As many as I can get into." This time, it's Mikey's turn to laugh. "Although I've never felt this... gone after breaking my nose. I feel like I'm going to throw up. Only time that's happened was when I was ten and I broke it for the first time."

"You're crazy. And it's probably because of how hard you hit your head, which is all the more reason to take you to the hospital," Mikey says softly and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to lean on Pete's shoulder because although they're talking like friends, there's still an extremely high chance that Pete is mad and is only using Mikey for help. Strangely, Mikey finds that completely understandable.

Pete perks up when the taxi comes into his line of sight and Mikey helps him get on his feet, heart aching slightly when Pete winces in pain. He's not as tough as he acts.

In the cab, Mikey reaches for his wallet before remembering putting it in Frank's backpack and _fuck_ , how is he going to pay for this?

"Pete," he whispers. "I know I broke your nose and all but... do you have any money? I've not got my wallet."

"Then how did you pay for the payphone?" Pete eyes him suspiciously and Mikey doesn't blame him for being sceptical.

"Spare change in my pocket," Mikey says truthfully and, to further prove his point, he turns all his pockets inside out to assure Pete that all he has on him is twenty-five cents and a voucher for Wal-Mart.

"Okay, I'll think of something." Pete says quietly.

Ten minutes into the journey, just as the driver pulls onto the highway, Pete surges forwards and grips onto the headrest on the driver's seat for support. "Hey, man," he says and Mikey can't help but notice the sudden seductive tone of voice Pete is using.

"Hm?" The driver says, not paying much attention.

"Me and my boy back there haven't got any money..." He keeps his voice low and leans closer, "but I can't help but notice where that club stamp on your hand is from."

Mikey doesn't know what Pete is referring to until he leans forward and sees the faded ink on the man's hand that is an all too familiar symbol. Gerard and Frank come home with that on their hands nearly every Friday. It's from one of the most popular gay clubs in the state.

"And maybe I can pay you in another way?"

"Dude, what the fuck?" Mikey practically chokes on his saliva because Pete's broken his nose, why is he making advances towards a taxi driver who's about fifteen years older than him?

What's worse is the driver is into it and has the goofiest of smiles on his face as he listens to everything Pete whispers into his ear. Mikey is glad he can't hear the words.

For an awfully long time Mikey believes that Pete is 100% serious and dreads the journey ending, but then Pete says his name is Ross Anderson and it takes all of Mikey's self control not to laugh because of _course_ Pete would use this as a lie. It's a shockingly believable lie, too. Mikey is starting to wish they were actually friends.

Satisfied with Pete's arrangement, the driver watches Pete write his name and number (which is also fake) on a sheet of paper and says, "I'll call you as soon as you're out of the hospital. If you don't come back, I'll report you to the police. You better come back."

"Will do, handsome." Pete runs a hand through his hair and pecks the driver on the cheek for good measure so that everything is more believable, before falling back in his seat and rolling his eyes dramatically. "My nose hurts," he whines and Mikey laughs before he can stop himself. He knows Pete won't shout at him now. He's a sweet guy once you get past his several layers of extreme bitterness.

"Is this how you always get out of paying for things?" He jokes.

"Yeah." Pete is deadly serious. "How else do you think I afford these concerts? Men are gullible. All you've got to do is find the youngest looking one, tell him you don't have a ticket but you'll suck him off after the show if he lets you in, and then leave ten or so minutes early through the back door. Problem solved."

"So you just... tell guys you'll blow them and they believe you?" He keeps his voice low in case the driver is listening in. "What if they find you? What if you can't get out of it?"

"Then I do it."

"Are you serious?"

Pete nods and lets out a soft groan, tenderly touching the bruised skin around his nose.

"That's fucking hilarious, holy shit!" Mikey laughs again and he reaches into the pockets of his hoodie, pulling out a water bottle that he brought with him to the gig. The car pulls off the highway and stops at a traffic light just as Mikey hands the bottle to Pete. "Here, this might help. It's cold."

He expects Pete to rest it against his nose and allow the coolness to numb the pain a little, but Pete doesn't catch on and he opens the lid and downs half the bottle before the lights have changed.

"Pete- Pete no. Use it- put it on your nose."

Mikey watches Pete's eyes dart around the vehicle as he tries to make sense of the command and then he does as he's told, letting out a relieved sigh when the pain becomes lest prominent.

"You're a hero," he says to Mikey. "You're a dick for doing this to me but oh God, I can forgive you just now."

The car starts moving again and Pete slumps back in the seat, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he inhales shaky breaths. For someone who's broken his nose multiple times, he sure looks like he's in a lot more pain than what he should be. Or, if Pete was being truthful about the number of times he's injured himself in the past three months, then maybe the last one wasn't fully healed, meaning he'd be in more pain this time round.

At this exact moment, Mikey vows to never go to a concert again.

The hospital is visible in the near distance as the driver turns another corner and Mikey nudges Pete, pointing out the building to let him know.

Because of how vacant the road is at this time of night, they're in the hospital parking lot before ten minutes have passed. Pete's facial expression is pure relief but his smile falters when the taxi comes to a halt in what's probably the furthest away space.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"You don't want someone to catch us, do you?"

"Dude," Mikey interrupts and doesn't care if his tone of voice is verging on rude. "He's hurt, is probably concussed to some extent, and you want him to suck your dick?" Next to him, Pete covers his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"He said he would," the driver snaps.

"Well _I'm_ saying," Mikey cuts him off again, "that you told him to come back after this was all over. He will come back. Give him your number, go home, and read the bible or something while I make sure he's not dying. You know his name. You can report him if he lies."

"For someone who looked like he was about to piss himself after I shouted at him earlier," Pete says quietly, "you sure are one sassy motherfucker."

"I get it from my brother," Mikey mumbles as he opens the door, watching Pete do the same.

"I-uh, I can drive you guys to the entrance, if you want?" The driver offers, his voice timid.

"Don't bother," Mikey snaps, and just because he's mad, he decides to be a little more petty about everything. "In fact, wait here and hell, _I'll_ do whatever you want me to after we're out. Although..." he feigns sadness and Pete hides behind the car door because he's laughing so hard that he couldn't be subtle about it if he tried. "We'll probably take a few hours..."

"I can wait a few hours," the driver says in one breath, so quickly that Mikey barely understands.

Pete wasn't kidding when he said men are gullible. Mikey smiles to himself and turns away, not feeling the slightest bit guilty about the fact that this guy will spend hours waiting for nothing at all.

"That was cold," Pete says as soon as they're out of the driver's earshot. "You're amazing."

They walk towards the hospital together and Mikey regrets not taking up the driver's offer of taking them to the entrance, because Pete is swaying as he walks, meaning Mikey has to support him, and it's freezing. They'll probably end up sick after all this.

Inside, they're greeted with a warm gust of air and Mikey approaches the nearest nurse, quickly explaining the events of earlier tonight. Behind him, Pete lets out a loud laugh.

"I've told him that all I need to do is ice it!" He says defensively.

"Will that stop you from staggering around the place like you've just drank a liquor store?" Mikey retorts and Pete goes quiet. With a smug smile on his face, Mikey turns back to the nurse, who quickly attempts to conceal her laughter.

"Come with me," she says in a soft voice and guides the two males along the corridor and into a room. She instructs Pete to lie on the examination table so she can check to see if he has a concussion or not. Mikey is made to sit on a chair at the other side of the room, and all he can do is wait.

Five minutes pass and most of the time is spent listening to Pete answer the nurse's questions, and after Pete mentions Mikey leaving early to help him get to the hospital, Mikey remembers that Frank and Gerard will be leaving soon and will probably freak out if Mikey isn't there.

"Is it okay if I go find a phone to call my brother and let him know where I am?" Mikey interrupts the examination and the nurse gives him a small nod, smiling sweetly at him.

"Sure, honey."

Without wasting any time he runs out the room and down the corridor, almost knocking over an old lady in the process. She is rummaging through her purse and that's when Mikey realises he doesn't have enough money on him to use a payphone. _Fuck_.

He has two options. One - approach various people, ask for small amounts of money, and once he has enough he can make the call. That might not work though because many people are here for much more serious reasons, so money is most likely the last thing on their minds. Two - he can ask to borrow someone's phone. That's the easier option, but what if Frank and Gerard don't answer?

Mikey wanders in circles in a blind panic for a good five or six minutes until he sees a friendly-looking Asian girl with long black hair and dark eyes leaning against the wall, listening to music. He approaches her nervously and taps her on the shoulder, hoping that he doesn't look like a creep.

Luckily, he must give off a good vibe, because the girl doesn't seem scared and she's more than happy to let him borrow her phone, as long as she can supervise him using it to make sure he doesn't run off. Apparently it's happened to her before. Mikey feels bad for her.

He tries to find the contacts icon but everything is in another language and he can't pick out a single word. "Uh, how do I phone him?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says and leans closer to the screen, pressing on the icon on the top left corner. The numbers are Chinese - Mikey recognises them - so he has to say Gerard's phone number out loud and let her press it into the keypad. "There you go."

"Thank you so much," he says and holds the phone to his ear. It goes straight to voicemail. "For fucks sake. Uh, can I try my friend's?"

"Sure," the girl says and takes the phone off Mikey, this time typing in Frank's number.

When Frank picks up, Mikey lets out the loudest sigh of relief. "Hey Fr-"

"My favourite song is on and you just interrupted my recording! What the fuck do you want? Gerard can't hold the camera properly - the videos always come out blurry!"

Mikey rolls his eyes at how snappy Frank is and decides to just cut to the chase. "I'm at the hospital-"

"You're at the hospital?!" Frank shouts and through all the noise on the other line, Mikey can hear Gerard's distant, panicked yelling. "The fuck are you doing there?!"

"Frank, I'm- tell Gee I'm fine. I accidentally broke someone's nose so I went with him."

"How the hell did you manage that? Actually, don't bother telling me. I'm hanging up; Gerard isn't even _trying_ to record this decently. Uh... be safe, don't let the guy give you drugs, if he kills you then I expect to be in your will. Bye!"

"Okay, uh... bye?" The line disconnects and Mikey hands the phone back to the girl. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome." She smiles at him and plugs her headphones into the audiojack again.

Mikey finds his way back to the room Pete is in without difficulty, but the nurse isn't there. Pete, however, is lying on the table with his eyes half closed. He looks peaceful and doesn't acknowledge Mikey when he enters the room.

Five minutes go by before the nurse returns with a bottle of pills. She seems very stressed.

"These are pretty strong painkillers," she informs Mikey. "Your friend isn't concussed, he's just in a lot of pain. The swelling around his nose should go down in a couple of weeks. Of course, the damage will likely be permanent."

Already knowing this, Pete mumbles, "This is the eleventh time I've broke it," and the nurse shoots him a weirded out glance.

"Uh... like I said. Two pills three times a day. Make sure to ice it, and try and keep your head levitated when you're asleep."

A tense silence follows before the nurse says that they can leave and Mikey almost laughs at that, because shit, Pete was right when he said Mikey was too paranoid. All of this probably could have been solved if he just took Pete to his house. Then again, Pete wouldn't have been able to escape the taxi driver and it would've been unfair for him to have to satisfy the driver whilst being in pain. The hospital was a much better choice.

"Mikey?" Pete asks in a small voice once they exit the building. "How are we supposed to get home?"

"I-uh... shit. Is the concert over?" A quick glance at a random lady's phone screen shows that the concert isn't due to end for another twenty minutes, and that, along with the length of the journey from the venue to here, would take over fifty minutes. There's no way Mikey can wait for Gerard and Frank. "What are we going to do, Pete?"

"Go get something cheap from the café," Pete says in a confident voice and Mikey notices that he has suddenly developed an interest in trying to fix his hair. "Wait in there until I come back."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to suck that taxi driver's dick, where do you think I'm going?" An old man who's passing by glares at Pete, who says in response, "I'll suck yours too if you don't keep on walking!"

" _Pete_."

"Stop judging me." Pete laughs and adjusts his sweatshirt, rolling the sleeves up to just below his elbows. "Hopefully I won't be gone long. And, uh, if I'm not back in twenty minutes come check on me, and if I'm not there call the cops."

"And you call me paranoid?"

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to drive off with me." He shrugs nonchalantly and ignores Mikey's sudden worried expression. "Hey, I'll be fine. Go inside."

Biting his tongue to prevent himself from begging Pete to stay, Mikey complies and slowly makes his way towards the hospital. Every five or so seconds, he turns around to see Pete walking in the opposite direction and once he's out of view, Mikey has to fight the urge to run after him.

There are cookies for twenty cents so Mikey buys one and tells the woman who's serving him to keep the other five cents. She appears to be happy as she puts the coin into a charity bucket that's sat on the end of the counter. Mikey feels bad for not noticing it until now.

Cookie in hand, he chooses a seat beside a window but it's pointless because the distance between the hospital and the taxi driver's car is so great that Mikey assumes Pete hasn't even arrived at his destination yet. Part of him wants to follow because if he ran fast enough, he'd be able to catch up to Pete in time to ask him to rethink all this, to stay here until Frank and Gerard arrive.

He eats the cookie at a snails pace, staring out the window and watching people come and go. The clock on the wall shows that over five minutes have passed already. Another fifteen minutes and Mikey will have an excuse to go after Pete.

The time drags in and once he's finished the cookie, Mikey ends up gazing into space, so lost in his own world that he doesn't hear the waitress asking him if he wants a drink. She gives up after speaking to him four times and still receiving no response.

The second nineteen minutes turn into twenty, Mikey is up in a flash and running out the door without thanking the waitress or the woman who served him. With his luck, it starts raining as soon as he's outside but that won't stop him so he just pulls his hood up and keeps on running, slowing down once he almost slips on the road.

It takes him five minutes to reach the car and neither Pete or the driver are there, which causes Mikey's heart to sink. Fuck.

He refrains from calling out for Pete just in case it has negative consequences and instead resorts to wandering in aimless circles, frantically searching every place he can think someone would hide a body. He eventually finds them in an alley near the parking lot. They're behind a dumpster but Pete isn't dead or injured like Mikey expected. No, he's still on his knees for the driver, and he looks like he's enjoying it too.

Mikey cusses under his breath and sits down at the other side, hidden from Pete and the driver, and he buries his head in between his knees and covers his ears to block out all the muffled moans coming from behind him.

Either Pete is awful at this or he's great and really likes dragging things on for longer than what they should be, because another ten minutes pass before the driver shouts the fake name Pete gave him and releases down his throat. Mikey inhales a shaky breath and stands up, trying to get away unnoticed.

"Hey Mikey!" Pete shouts just before Mikey is able to turn the corner and the younger groans for a solid five seconds before turning around. He goes to speak but he can't get a single word out at the sight of Pete standing in the rain with swollen lips, messy hair and hickeys down his neck. "What's up?"

"Uh- home," is all Mikey manages to say.

Pete turns to the driver. "Will you take us home?"

"Yeah, sure." The guy's voice is hoarse and Mikey bites back laughter. "You deserve it after that."

They allow the driver to walk ahead and Mikey whispers to Pete, "What the fuck did you do that impressed him that much?"

"There are two rules to success," Pete starts melodramatically.

Bemused, Mikey glares at him. "Are you going to hit me with that 'one - never reveal everything you know' bullshit?"

"No, idiot." Pete lets out a loud laugh and leans closer, dropping his voice to a barely-there whisper. "The _real_ two rules of success are simple. Suck men off and then break their hearts."

"Well aren't you just charming?" The sarcasm in Mikey's voice is lethal.

Once they're in the car the driver turns the heating up to the maximum setting and switches on the radio before reversing out the parking space. Pete pops two of the pills the nurse gave him into his mouth and uses the remainder of Mikey's water to swallow them down.

"What are the addresses?"

"79 West B-"

"The same place you picked us up," Mikey cuts Pete off and once he's sure the driver isn't listening into their conversation, he says to Pete, "you don't want him knowing where you live, do you? My brother and his boyfriend can drive you home. That's much safer."

"Good thinking." Pete keeps his voice low and raises it to say, "Same as what he said."

The driver nods and takes the same route as before, and he's on the highway in a matter of minutes. Traffic must have died down considerably, Mikey thinks.

The ride home is completely silent save for the songs on the radio and Pete occasionally humming along quietly. Mikey keeps his eyes trained on Pete, unable to divert his focus from the hickeys on his neck. For some reason, he feels jealous. He shouldn't, though, because he only met Pete a few hours ago. They don't even know each other's surnames.

"What're you staring at?" Pete's voice is verging on seductive and Mikey's breath catches in his throat.

"N-nothing," he stutters. Pete just smirks at him.

As if on cue, the driver pulls up beside the phonebox Mikey used earlier and gestures for the two males to get out before he changes his mind about doing this for free. Mikey practically jumps out but Pete takes his time, showing no signs of panic. 

Music isn't audible from outside and lots of people are stood, all in their separate cliques, waiting for rides home.

"Is it over?" Pete sounds worried.

"It seems that way." Mikey speaks slowly, eyes scanning the crowd for Gerard and Frank. "Frank is small with black hair-"

" _Everyone_ is small with black hair. Me included."

"Gerard is slightly taller with bright red hair."

Pete smiles at that. "Okay, he'll be easier to find. Do you remember what they were wearing?"

"I feel like I'm a murder witness describing the culprits to the detective." Mikey laughs and tries to remember what clothes his brother had on.

"That's exactly what we're doing." Every time Pete smiles Mikey wants to slap it off his face because it's making him feel weak at the knees and this is the last thing he needs, especially seeing as he likely won't get to see Pete again after all this. "So, Mr..."

"Way."

"Alright, Mr. Way, tell me who you saw killing a man."

In between laughter, Mikey informs Pete that Gerard was wearing a grey tank top with a leather jacket and black skinny jeans, and Frank had the exact same outfit, minus the jacket.

"Literally _everyone_ has leather jackets and black jeans. Fucking shoot me," Pete groans and gazes around again. When he sees a mop of red hair he stands on his tiptoes, ready to shout, but then he realises it belongs to a girl who looks to be about fifteen years old. "Dammit!"

After circling the building twice, both Mikey and Pete give up and decide to walk to the parking lot instead, to see if they can find Frank's car. That'll be easier said than done because Mikey can't remember where it was parked for the life of him.

They arrive in record time and immediately start looking, but it's almost impossible to walk around the lot when cars are pulling out constantly. Mikey nearly gets hit several times and Pete suggests maybe they should sit near the car park exit and that way they'll be able to catch Gerard and Frank once they leave, if they haven't already. Mikey thinks it's a great idea and he follows Pete. They sit on the wall and wait.

Ten minutes go by agonizingly slowly and there's still no sign of Frank's car. Mikey is losing hope and soon, Pete appears to be feeling the same way, because he gives up and says he wants to walk home.

In any other circumstances Mikey would have no problem with that, but that means never seeing Pete again and he's not ready for that, especially because they're starting to verge on being friends. He figures that if they're together just a little longer, he'd have an excuse to get Pete's number or something and they can keep in contact with one another.

"Don't," he pleads, but his voice holds no authority. Pete could easily get up and leave, knowing fine well that Mikey wouldn't be able to stop him, but when he watches the blonde hesitantly grab onto his hand, Pete decides that staying for longer might be the best thing to do.

"Your hands are cold," Pete comments. Mikey doesn't respond, just breathes in and closes his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

They sit in a peaceful silence and Mikey figures now is a good time to lean his head on Pete's shoulder, but as soon as he does it, Pete stands up. "Uh, sorry-"

"Come with me." Pete doesn't seem bothered and he takes Mikey's wrist, dragging him across the road and into a secluded area surrounded by trees. Because of how dark it is, the chances of them being seen here is highly unlikely. "Isn't this the perfect place to kill someone and dump their body?"

"You aren't a very subtle murderer."

Pete reaches into his pocket for something and Mikey's heart stops because he thought Pete was joking, but what if he is actually going to kill him?

He expects a knife so he's surprised when Pete hands him a piece of paper. Mikey's vision hasn't fully adjusted to the dark, so he can't read it, but before he can ask what's written on it, he hears Pete unzipping his hoodie. "What are you doing?"

"Ground's wet. Don't wanna ruin my jeans."

"How are you going to ruin your jeans?" There's no reply, just more shuffling and then Mikey feels Pete's hands holding onto his thighs. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Earlier, you asked me to show you how I impressed that driver. I'm showing you."

The casual tone of Pete's voice means that the words don't register with Mikey at first, and by the time he catches on Pete is already undoing his belt. Mikey is tempted to ask how he can see so well but he can't get a single sound out when Pete takes him into his mouth. He only manages a weak whimper, followed by a moan, and then he can barely even breathe because his head is spinning and this is the highest he's ever felt.

When he can make his limbs work, he grips onto Pete's hair so hard his knuckles turn white and he tugs it repeatedly, drawing a moan out of Pete every time he does so. The vibrations only make this feel ten times better.

"Pete." His voice is a barely-there whisper. "You need- I, we gotta find my brother. What if- what if they're gone?"

Pete answers with a dismissive wave of his hand and he squeezes Mikey's thigh. His free hand travels up towards Mikey's tummy before gripping onto his hip and holding him in place.

"Pete," Mikey whines again but he forgets what he was going to say the second Pete leans forward and deep throats. So far, he's shown signs of not having a gag reflex, and Mikey is in fucking awe because he has trouble brushing his teeth at the best of times.

A warm sensation builds up inside him and he forces Pete's head back, because he won't be able to last if this goes on and it's not even been five minutes; it'd be really embarrassing if he came this quickly. Pete's having none of it, though, and he uses his hands to pin Mikey's arms at either side of his body, before lowering his head down again.

"Pete- Pete stop," Mikey begs but Pete either doesn't hear him or doesn't care because if anything, he _speeds up_ the pace he's going at. Mikey is going to fucking die. "Pete, I'm-"

Pete pulls off altogether and laughs at Mikey's protests. "You tell me to stop. I stop, and you get mad?" He presses a kiss to Mikey's inner thigh and the younger's legs almost give way at that.

"No, I just- do it again."

"It's no fun without teasing," Pete pouts and gazes up at Mikey, dark eyes glowing in the reflection of a streetlight. Cars can still be heard driving down the road. "And we have to find your brother."

"I am not leaving here like this," Mikey deadpans matter-of-factly and grabs hold of Pete's hair before said man has time to react. "Suck me off now or your broken nose will feel like a walk in the fucking park after I'm done with you."

Pete starts laughing hard and Mikey glares at him. "I can't take you seriously when you threaten me, you look like a gust of wind could knock you over!"

Without thinking about it, Mikey slaps Pete across the face. He doesn't even realise until Pete turns his head to the side and curses.

"Oh my God, I'm sor-"

"That was hot." That wasn't the response Mikey expected; he was anticipating a punch to the jaw or something even more brutal, not Pete saying that he liked that. It makes no sense to Mikey but he's not about to tell Pete he should be mad, so.

"Seriously?"

Pete doesn't say another word, just puts his mouth back on Mikey's cock and hollows his cheeks, drawing out another moan from the blonde. He gazes up with wide innocent eyes and the sight alone is enough to have Mikey let out a guttural moan.

He's given up on the teasing now, Mikey realises, because he makes no effort to slow down when Mikey warns him about being close. Right before he can come, Pete pulls off and stares up at him dilated eyes.

"Do it on my face?" He asks quietly and Mikey chokes on his spit, blushing a dark shade of red as he does a series of small nods and wraps a hand around his dick. He does as Pete asked and releases on his face, part of him wanting to laugh at the way Pete squeezes his eyes shut at the last second. But he just stands there, praying his knees won't buckle because his vision is blurred and his heart is beating so fast that he'd be surprised if Pete can't hear it.

Blinded by the aftershock, Mikey simply stretches out his arm and as soon as Pete tries to use it to pull himself up on his feet, Mikey falls forward on top of him.

"Dammit, Mikey." Pete's voice is laced with affection and the blonde hums softly, wanting to stay in this position forever. He can't, though, because the temperature drops and there's still a light drizzle of rain coming from the sky, so he forces himself to get up and Pete follows suit.

"Clean that off your face."

"The rain will wash it off, probably. Nobody will see. It's dark." Pete sounds confident enough for Mikey to believe him so he shrugs and pulls his jeans up before making his way towards the parking lot, still feeling incredibly shaky. He wants to kiss Pete but they're not hidden anymore.

There are only seven cars that remain, scattered across the lot. Out of that number, three of them look similar to Frank's, so Mikey chooses the one closest to them and walks towards it. Unfortunately, there's a baby seat in the back, and the youngest person in Frank's family is twelve, so it can't be his. Mikey sighs and carries on making his way towards the second car.

"You know what's unfair?" Pete randomly says as Mikey crouches down to look in the window of the second car. "I sucked two dicks today in the space of an hour, yet I am the only person involved who hasn't got off."

"Pete, shut up. I don't care. It's your own fault for liking the taste of cock so much." Mikey stands back up, sighing heavily. "This car isn't Frank's either."

"Don't be a dick," Pete replies, sounding somewhat bitter, and Mikey internally panics for a few seconds until he notices Pete's smile. He's not mad. That's good.

"If the third car isn't Frank's, I'm either going to need to borrow someone's phone and call him or we can hitchhike. But no more blowjobs, okay?"

"Don't tell me how to live my life," Pete jokes and runs towards the last car. For someone who was on the verge of passing out earlier, he sure has made a quick recovery.

Mikey goes at a slower pace because he doesn't see the point in running if there's a high chance that Frank and Gerard are away home. He's starting to regret his request to be dropped off at the venue instead of letting the taxi driver take them home. He could've just given false addresses that were nearby, maybe a few blocks over from their real houses. It sure would have saved him a lot of time.

"Uh, Mikey? Are Gerard and Frank... together?"

"Why?"

"They're, uh - he's, they're - yeah."

Mikey quickly catches on and rolls his eyes. He doesn't worry too much because he knows they won't be going all the way - Frank hates car sex more than he hates his next door neighbour, and that's saying something - so the worst that could happen is they're doing the same thing Pete and Mikey were doing moments earlier.

God must be watching over him because when Mikey takes a deep breath and knocks on the window, he sees that they were just making out, nothing more. Gerard jumps, wide-eyed and embarrassed, but Frank is unfazed as he unlocks the car doors and instructs Mikey to get in the back.

As soon as he gets inside the vehicle, the stench of alcohol hits him like a truck and there's no way on Earth he's letting Frank drink-drive, especially after the events of new years day two years ago where he crashed head on into a pole and ended up in hospital fighting for his life, while Gerard walked away with a broken arm and mild whiplash. That memory is all too fresh in Mikey's mind and he doesn't show any remorse when he drags Frank out of the driver's seat.

"I'm driving. Get in the back."

This, of course, means Gerard wants to be in the back too, so he gives up the passenger seat to Pete and curls up in the back next to his boyfriend (none of them are wearing seatbelts and Mikey is starting to wish both of them were sober when the car crash happened, because then they'd remember it vividly enough to actually, you know, _care about their fucking safety_.)

"Can I take my friend home too?"

"Since when did you have friends? And sure, as long as he doesn't live far," Frank says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck and Mikey turns on the radio so he doesn't have to endure the tense silence. Once the car pulls out of the parking lot, Frank asks, "Where were you?"

"The hospital."

"No, I mean where did you go once you came back? I saw you and him," he points in the general direction of Pete, too intoxicated to get it right, "getting out of a taxi and I was yelling on you, but you didn't hear and walked off. You were gone for ages."

Mikey freezes and frantically tries to come up with an excuse, but he can't think of anything believable. In the end, he mumbles, "I was looking for you," and hopes Frank is stupid enough (and drunk enough) to buy it.

He isn't. "It doesn't take that long to search for someone. You went across the parking lot. Who in the right mind spends fifteen minutes in a parking lot searching for someone? If you saw our car was empty - and it was, because we only got in here a few minutes ago - then why didn't you go back to the venue? We were waiting for you."

"I, uh-"

"Look at his friend's face, Frank." Gerard grins sadistically at Mikey who's eyes widen once he realises what Gerard is referring to. "That alone is telling."

Frank complies and leans into the front to stare at Pete for about three seconds before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, so much so that Mikey has to stop the car because of how distracting it is. Mikey elbows Pete in the ribs, not too hard for it to hurt but enough for him to get his point across. "I told you to wash your fucking face."

"My nose hurts," Pete argues and makes no effort to conceal his face. "I wasn't gonna touch it."

The car starts moving again and Mikey slumps in his seat. He doesn't want to go home now because he knows Gerard and Frank are never going to let this die.

"Where do you live?" Mikey asks Pete. As soon as Pete gives him the address, Frank bites his lip and appears worried.

"Dude, that's a good hour and a half away..."

"He can crash at ours, right?" Mikey asks hopefully.

"Dude, hell no. That kid's brought out the sinner in you," Gerard shuts down the idea immediately and Pete lets out a tired laugh. He looks exhausted. "He isn't coming into my house."

"I'll tell mom about that time Frank handcuffed you to the bed and lost the key and had to get me to pick the lock!" Mikey knows this threat will work, as his mom doesn't even know Gerard and Frank are dating, let alone having sex, so Gerard won't want to take any chances.

"Uh, he can stay." His voice is high-pitched and filled with paranoia. Mikey shoots a smug smile in his direction.

"I want you to tell me that story as soon as we get to your house," Pete whispers and Mikey gives him a promising nod of approval. Satisfied, Pete leans back and shuts his eyes.

On the journey home, Mikey explains how he met Pete and the events of the circle pit. He mentions the fact that Pete's broken his nose eleven times and talks about the Asian girl letting him borrow her phone and all the other pointless details, but he leaves out everything to do with the taxi driver. Pete is grateful for that.

In the driveway, once he's made sure Mikey will keep quiet about the handcuff incident, Gerard hands his little brother the keys to the house and tells Pete that he can use the spare bedroom. There's no point in saying that, though, because he knows for a fact that tomorrow morning when he wakes Mikey up, Pete will be curled up beside him. From how they act around each other, Gerard can tell that them sharing a bed is inevitable.

Frank gives him the go-ahead to leave him and Gerard in the garage, using the excuse "I'm going to help him clean it up." Mikey doesn't bother making any sarcastic comments about what they're actually going to do down here; he just rests his hand on the small of Pete's back and guides him to the door. After unlocking it, he sneaks Pete upstairs without his parents catching him, and he instructs Pete to stop outside the bathroom so he can clean his face.

He kneels on the floor - which isn't good for Mikey's sanity, by the way, because it's triggering flashbacks to the parking lot - and watches with sleepy eyes as Mikey rinses a facecloth with lukewarm water before gently dabbing it on Pete's face.

"Tell me if I'm pressing down too hard, okay?"

"Uh-huh," Pete replies dreamily. His eyes are droopy. All the chaos from tonight must finally be catching up with him.

It doesn't take long to clean him up and save from a few instances where Pete tells Mikey to stop because it's sore, it's over rather quickly. The ordeal feels longer to Mikey, though, because Pete starts making obscene noises just for the fun of it and it's really, _really_ causing Mikey's head to spin.

By the time they get into Mikey's bedroom, Gerard and Frank still haven't returned. The bedroom is small but comfortable, with a king-sized bed taking up majority of the room. The leftover space is filled with a dark brown chest of drawers, a matching wardrobe, and a desk with schoolwork scattered across it. There's a TV on his wall facing his bed and Pete smiles, wondering if Mikey will let him watch TV while he falls asleep.

Mikey gives Pete a pair of pyjamas and tells him to get changed in the bathroom. He's back in record time, just as Mikey pulls on his t-shirt.

"Shame. The view was nice," Pete comments.

"Fuck off." Mikey laughs and tries not to focus on the fact that Pete is shirtless. He takes the unused shirt off him and puts it back in the drawer. "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"No Sleep with me," Pete says bluntly and craws into the right side of the bed, leaving Mikey to take the left. He normally sleeps on the other side but he doesn't complain because with Pete lying right next to him, he probably won't get much rest anyways.

Their choice of movie is Home Alone, partly because Pete is still in a Christmas mood and partly because Mikey just fucking loves the film, but before the opening credits are over, Pete turns to Mikey.

"Hi." He has a goofy smile on his face and Mikey's heart melts at the sight.

"Hi..." Mikey says hesitantly, wondering what's initiated Pete's sudden talkative mood. "Everything okay? Also, sit up, will you? The nurse said to keep your head upright."

"Take it from someone who's dealt with this almost constantly since he was a kid. It doesn't matter. As long as I keep icing it, it'll be fine."

"How did you first break it?" Mikey asks just as the movie itself begins. He subtly lowers the volume while Pete isn't looking because he'd much rather talk to Pete than watch this.

Grinning at the memory, Pete shifts closer and slings his arm across Mikey's upper thighs. "I was ten, I had just started a new school and I wanted everyone to think I was cool. What better way to do that than to attempt a backflip off the climbing frame?" Both he and Mikey laugh. "Let's just say that I was _not_ cool after that."

"Why do you keep breaking it nowadays?"

"Fights. Mosh pits. General clumsiness. The usual."

Mikey shakes his head and leans down as far as he can without hurting his neck. "You're an idiot."

"If you were lying down, I could kiss you right now."

"Do you understand why I'm not lying down?"

Pete frowns for a few seconds as he tries to make sense of Mikey's words and then he hits him gently. "You're so mean to me!"

"No I'm not," Mikey says and, to prove his point, he slides out of the bed and makes his way towards the door. "I'm going to get you some ice. See? I'm good to you."

"And I'm good _for_ you." Pete winks and Mikey rolls his eyes dramatically, forcing back laughter as he leaves without giving a response.

Downstairs, all the lights are off save from the lamp in the living room, meaning his dad is still awake and has most likely went out for a smoke. He could return at any moment and would probably have several questions if he saw his youngest son carrying an ice pack from the freezer upstairs, so Mikey tries to be as quick as he can while rummaging around the drawer in search of it. Of course, just as his luck would have it, it's right at the very bottom of it, under all the frozen foods that are crammed in it. Pulling the icepack out takes effort and it's not the most silent of tasks but Mikey manages, and he shuts the door just as the kitchen light switches on.

"What are you doing?" It's Gerard's voice, thankfully.

"I'm just getting some ice for Pete," Mikey says and shows the icepack. Gerard nods and pushes past him. "Where are you going?"

"To bed."

"Where's Frank?"

"Cleaning." There's something about Gerard's tone of voice that sends Mikey mixed signals and he knows pretty much right away that something dirty must have occurred in the garage, but he doesn't stick around to ask questions. Nobody wants to find out about their brother's sex life.

Back upstairs, Mikey enters his room and can't help but smile when he sees Pete's unfocused eyes staring in the general direction of the TV. "Pete?" Mikey keeps his voice low so not to startle his friend.

"Yeah?" Pete's eyes light up when he sees the icepack and he lets out a loud moan of satisfaction when Mikey rests it against his nose. "Oh my God, this is the best feeling in the world. I want to live in this feeling."

"It's the best feeling, huh?" Mikey brushes his lips against Pete's neck "I bet I could compete with that."

Pete's eyes follow Mikey's hand that's slowly trailing down his tummy, pausing at the tattoo just above his belt. He sucks in a breath as Mikey undoes it, purposefully dragging the process out for as long as possible and keeping his eyes trained on Pete the entire time. They darken noticeably when Pete bites his lip so hard he draws blood.

"Mikeyway, what are you doing?" He questions hesitantly when he feels a hand sliding down his boxers and then all the air is knocked out of his lungs with the first stroke. "Okay, fuck - fuck yeah. Yeah, do that." His voice is breathless and Mikey quickens his movements, causing Pete to arch his back as he tries to match the pace with his thrusts.

Ignoring the fact that this is probably a daily occurrence for Pete and that this might be nothing compared to what some men do to him, Mikey focuses on the sounds of pleasure he makes and how he continuously arches up in a desperate attempt for Mikey to speed up.

He doesn't. He figures it's much more fun to force Pete to hold off than to just give him what he wants so easily. Mikey's realised rather quickly that in spite of how tough and dominant Pete acts, he has no problem submitting to other guys. The thought is enough to have Mikey's mind go off on a tangent, imagining what it'd be like to get Pete properly alone, what it'd be like to not have to worry about anyone hearing them.

"Go faster." His plea falls on deaf ears and Mikey goes at the same pace, making sure to twist his hand just enough to keep Pete on edge, but not enough to satisfy him. "Mikey I swear- _please_."

"Shut up," Mikey whispers into Pete's ear and licks a stripe up his neck. "I don't want someone to hear us."

"Then let me come," Pete chokes out in between gasps and he looks so tired and _gone_ that Mikey changes his mind. "Can you - can you blow me?"

"I gag when I'm brushing my teeth half of the time, dude. I wouldn't be able to," Mikey admits and he feels bad when Pete's excitement falters. "I- I could try?"

"No-" Pete cuts himself off with a high-pitched whine because Mikey starts moving his hand at a greater speed. "Don't- don't wanna force you."

That's reasonable, Mikey tells himself, so instead he latches his lips onto Pete's neck and marks more hickeys on his tan skin. He adds fresher hickeys on top of the ones Pete received earlier because Mikey wants to pretend that Pete is _his_ , not anyone else's. His conscience is secretly worrying about how awkward this will be in the morning when Gerard sees him but right now, he couldn't care less. He ends up half on top of Pete, his hand wedged between their bodies in a weird position. It hurts but it's the most he can do right now, so he doesn't stop the movements, not even when the strain in his arm becomes almost unbearable.

Pete must be good at reading people's emotions because not even two minutes pass before he pushes Mikey's arm back and says, "If it's hurting you then don't."

"You were almost there," Mikey replies, puzzled, because after all that begging Pete suddenly stops him?

Shrugging, Pete wraps his own hand around his dick and tangles the other one in Mikey's hair to enforce that he wants Mikey to keep kissing his neck. Mikey does exactly that and, while Pete grinds against his thigh, he marks five more hickeys and is just starting on the sixth when the black-haired man comes with a shudder and a quiet whimper of Mikey's name. He falls back on the bed, eyes half closed and mouth ajar, staring lustfully at Mikey.

"Fuck, thank you."

"You're welcome." Mikey giggles and it's the last thing Pete expects, and it makes his heart feel like it's about to burst out of his chest. "I figured you deserved it after everything you did today."

"Want me to return the favour?" There's a trace of hope in Pete's voice but as much as Mikey wants to keep this going, both of them need rest.

"No. Another time, hell yes, but you need to sleep," Mikey says softly, smoothing down Pete's hair. "Maybe tomorrow."

Letting out a whine of protest, Pete attempts to sit up but he doesn't get far, because he's suddenly aware of how much he really _does_ need sleep. "I wanna." He pouts sadly.

"Oh my God, seriously? You love sucking dick _that_ much? You're a... what's it called? Oh yeah, you're a fucking whore."

"That's the nicest thing a guy's ever said to me." Pete smiles sweetly and pulls Mikey in for a kiss. This time, it's gentle and full of care, unlike the previous ones.

"The sad thing is I actually believe that."

Pete doesn't say anything else and he rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms around Mikey's slender waist and holding him closely. The silence is peaceful and Mikey dozes on and off to the rhythm of Pete's slightly laboured breathing. He thinks he actually has a chance of falling asleep before Frank comes upstairs, but then Pete moves away and Mikey feels cold.

"What're you doing?" He murmurs sleepily and he listens to Pete shuffling around, and then he feels a sharpie come into contact with his wrist. "Pete, what are you-!"

"Shh, don't yell." Pete's lips are pressed against the back of Mikey's shoulder and he decides to keep quiet and see where this is going. Once the sharpie vanishes, he looks down and expects to see a swear word or a reference to drugs or something vulgar, so he's surprised when he's greeted with a set of numbers instead.

"What's this?"

"My _real_ phone number." Mikey feels somewhat honoured that Pete hasn't given him something fake like everyone else supposedly gets from him. To try it out, he dials the number into his phone and it goes straight to voice mail, which is ' _Yo, you've reached Pete. Don't leave a message, I don't know how to check voice mails 'n shit.'_

Laughing at how blunt Pete is, Mikey turns off his own phone and twists around so he's facing Pete, their noses almost touching. It's an unintentional staring contest and Pete wins after he blows air on Mikey's face and Mikey scrunches his eyes shut. It's not a fair competition but he doesn't care.

"You know something?" Pete moves closer, wanting to make sure that there's no possibility of anyone except Mikey will hear his next words. "I want to take you on a second date."

"A second date? What was our first?"

Grinning, Pete pulls the duvet further over him and he moves his head onto Mikey's pillow. Mikey is slowly moving closer and closer to the edge of the bed, whereas Pete has tons of space behind him. He isn't complaining, though. If he has to sacrifice his comfort to let Pete share a bed with him, then so be it.

"Our first date was going to a hospital, you watching me suck a forty-something year old's dick-"

"How did you know I was there?" Mikey interrupts. He thought he'd hidden himself well enough.

"You're not the quietest of people, Mikeyway. And I could see your shoes from the gap under the dumpster. I was on my knees, remember?"

"When are you _not_ on your knees?" Mikey jokes.

"That's a good point," Pete deadpans and Mikey chuckles, resting his head on Pete's chest. "Anyways, then going _back_ to the venue, then me blowing you, then us going here, you getting me off, and now we're sleeping in the same bed. That's our first date."

"How romantic. I'm swooning." Mikey's voice is void of any emotion and strangely enough, it convinces Pete that Mikey means that. Mikey is a vague person Pete loves it. "So, what happens on the second date?"

Thinking for a few minutes, Pete absentmindedly toys with Mikey's hair and Mikey can hear his heartbeat. "I take you to a restaurant. A fancy one. One where we can't afford stuff but it doesn't matter because at least we're there, you get me?"

"And let me guess," Mikey cuts him off. "You promise to blow the waiter so we don't have to pay?"

"You know me so well, Mikeyway. We're practically soulmates." Pete's voice is laced with sarcasm. "And then I fake propose to you so we can get desert. Then I take you home and we plan our first murder. We feature on the TV show Killer Couples-"

Mikey places a hand over Pete's mouth and doesn't remove it, not even when Pete licks it in an attempt to disgust him. "I'm going to stop you there. You don't want to give away too much, do you? The element of surprise is necessary to have someone continue to date you. And what is it with your obsession with murder?"

When Mikey takes his hand off Pete's mouth, he replies, "I watch a lot of crime documentaries. I'm only kidding."

Letting out a quiet laugh, Mikey secures an arm around Pete's waist and squeezes him tight. "Sure you are. I'm glad I met you tonight. You're cool."

"That's the second nicest thing a guy's ever said to me."

"Congratulations, whore." Mikey smiles affectionately at Pete and watches him laugh under his breath.

Overcome with the urge to kiss him, Mikey leans down and presses their lips together, deciding that he'd very much like to have Pete around for longer. Maybe even forever. He voices that thought to Pete, who calls him sappy and says he agrees. They've only known each other for a few hours but Pete doesn't seem bothered by that, so Mikey tries not to dwell on it too much. As long as both of them are happy, what does it matter?

Just then, the not so quiet thud of Frank's footsteps can be heard coming up the stairs and they get closer and closer, but Mikey isn't worried because Gerard's room is right next-door. However, Frank peeks in and Mikey hurriedly pushes himself back so he isn't clinging onto Pete.

If Frank saw, he keeps quiet, because the only thing he says is, "Did you enjoy your first concert?" in a hushed whisper.

And although Mikey only got to see the opening act before disaster struck and he was cursed with trying to get a random person to the hospital when he had no money, Mikey looks at Pete and decides that yeah, he had a fucking blast. Although the concert brought hell upon him, it also brought Pete into his bed, so can he really complain?

"Yeah." He confirms with a nod and glances at Pete, who's watching intently and still holding Mikey's hand. "It was great."

Frank follows his gaze. "You're talking about the concert, right?" He frowns at Mikey, who throws his head back and laughs loudly, not caring if he disturbs Pete.

"Yes, Frank. The concert." His voice isn't convincing at all.

Frank awkwardly half-smiles, the kind you'd give to a relative at a funeral who you've never met, and closes the door. Mikey can hear him moving around in Gerard's room.

"Talking about the concert, huh?" Pete keeps his voice low enough so that only Mikey can hear his words. "What about me?"

"The _concert_ was great." Mikey punctuates his sentence with a chaste his to Pete's lips. " _You_ were perfect."

There's a loud thump on the wall, and Gerard's voice shouts," There will be one gay brother in this household and it's _me_! Do not compete with me, Michael!"

"I vote," Pete's voice drops an octave and Mikey loses his breath at how hot he sounds, "that we _do_ compete with that." He moves down on the bed land starts kissing down Mikey's tummy.

"And how -" Mikey pauses to take in a deep breath, "how do you plan on doing that?"

Pete doesn't use words. Slowly, he shifts under the duvet and although its pitch black, Mikey knows where this is going. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what's about to happen, but he still isn't fully prepared for the sensation of Pete's lips around his cock.

He goes down as far as he can and then pulls all the way off, asking, "Does this answer your question?" before repeating his movements. Mikey nods vigorously although he knows Pete can't see him. "I said, does this answer your question?" There's more reinforcement and Mikey chokes out a yes.

After staying down for a solid minute, Pete slowly pulls off and licks the tip teasingly. "You know something, Mikeyway?"

Why is Pete asking Mikey questions? Mikey can barely even _breathe_  with the euphoria of this, let alone speak. He manages to whisper a weak "what?" before his voice gives up altogether.

"I don't want to be successful in life." When Mikey looks confused, Pete elaborates: "I don't want to break your heart."

And then Pete starts sucking again before Mikey has a chance to reply and Mikey thinks he's going to pass out. The thrill is borderline unbearable because his hips are being pinned down on the mattress with both of Pete's hands and Pete is taking every inch of him into his mouth with no difficulty whatsoever. All he can do is hold onto the headboard to keep himself grounded and he lets out a few suppressed moans. It wouldn't surprise him if it were audible to the two men next door but he closes his eyes and hopes that isn't the case.

For about three seconds, the thought of being caught freaks Mikey out to the point where he considers forcing Pete to stop. But then Pete takes half of Mikey in his mouth and strokes the base of his cock with his hand, and Mikey figures it's probably best to push his paranoia aside and just lie back, close his eyes and focus on the pleasure.

He doesn't make Pete stop, not even when he hears Gerard's window sliding open and him and Frank talking about sneaking out and crashing at a friend's house so they don't have to endure listening to this all night long.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fucking trip to write. Sorry if it sucked, I haven't really been in the mood to write recently.
> 
> Also please leave a comment on what you thought of this. Feedback would be hugely appreciated as always!<3


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